


Pulling Strings

by Charamei



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Lavellan twins, POV Solas, Post-Trespasser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5340026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charamei/pseuds/Charamei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas was expecting any number of things: a trap, an awkward reunion with his ex, maybe even the Tevinter relics he was actually looking for. Morally judgemental puppets, not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling Strings

It is usually a still, quiet glade, far from the front lines of the war, and within its confines the Dread Wolf, recently awoken from a thousands year slumber, herald of the world's destruction, finds himself uncommonly at a loss for words.

He is not dealing with the Inquisitor, a fact which has long since ceased to surprise. The Inquisitor has not deigned to speak to Solas personally since he took her hand in the Crossroads; a move calculated to wound, but little more. As long as she continues to speak through her brother, he believes, there is hope.

Not that much conversation is occurring. He was lured here with carefully-planted hints about ancient Tevinter magics, and instead discovered a small, brightly-painted puppet theatre and a play about the importance of not killing people. If the subject matter were not so perfectly appropriate, he might have thought the play originally written for two-year-olds. Instead, the Tale Of The Naughty Wolf Who Woke Up On The Wrong Side Of The Bed is chiefly an insult to his intelligence... which is most likely Daylen's true intent.

"Because he's a Naughty Wolf," Daylen's squeaky puppeteer voice says from behind the curtain, for the tenth time today, and the mobcapped puppet known as Madame Friendship shakes her entire body in disapproval. "Can you tell me what he's done wrong, children?" Without pausing for a response, he carries on, "That's right! He's trying to burn down the forest again! What a grumpy wolf. Doesn't he know this is why we sent him to bed without supper last time?"

The good news, Solas supposes, is that this is the most accurate story about him the Dalish have managed to concoct in two thousand years.

The Naughty Wolf is, at length, convinced not to burn down the forest and ushered back into bed with some warm halla milk and a good book ("His special friend doesn't want to scratch his ears, because he bit her hand off, but what's important is the forest is still standing!"). Solas does not applaud. Daylen doesn't need the encouragement anyway.

It takes Daylen a few seconds too long to rise out of the puppeteer's box, and when he does there's a slight wobble that he covers up by leaning on the top of the box and saying brightly, "Well, children, I hope we learned something today."

Plenty, in fact. Solas has learned that certain of his spies have been made, or else are double agents; that this glade never had anything remotely interesting in it; and that Daylen, after crouching in a puppet box for two hours, is in sufficient pain that he would not be able to enter battle without a respite. Any one of these is worth an hour of Madame Friendship's condescension.

"I have learned that puppetry is just as puerile now as it was in the days of my people," he says, and Daylen actually laughs.

"Well, we've tried talking to you like an adult, and that's not working."

Either Daylen is a much better actor than Solas gives him credit for, or he has a genuine, exceedingly foolish lack of fear regarding the situation. Solas can think of few people who would lure the Dread Wolf into the open so they could insult him with puppets, and still fewer who would continue to cheerfully insult him once the puppets were gone.

Daylen is a man who sets himself on fire and jumps into the battle so somebody else can line up a killing shot. Daylen is also a man who, independently of the Inquisition, devised a way to temporarily close rifts within a few scant weeks of the Breach. Foolhardiness or clever lying... or perhaps a little of both.

It's as well that there are no witnesses to this débâcle. Solas likes Daylen too much – and cares for Elgari too much – to have any desire to kill him over this. His dignity will recover faster than his reputation would have, had his people heard of this. And nobody will ever believe the story if Daylen tells it.

He stands up and inquires, "Was there a point to this besides the puppets?"

"Nope," Daylen says, as blandly and casually as if he were discussing the weather. "Feel free to leave whenever you like. Oh! Would you like to take your puppet home with you?" He tosses the Naughty Wolf in Solas's direction without waiting for a response; Solas catches it out of reflex. It's a black rabbit-fur glove puppet, with a pair of glass eyes and, somewhat bizarrely, a nightcap. Mockery distilled to its purest form.

"Ma serannas," Solas says, with all the sarcasm at his disposal, and takes his leave before Daylen can come up with another volley.

He is halfway through the chain of eluvians that leads to his base, and contemplating the Naughty Wolf puppet in the hope of answering the question 'foolhardy or good actor?', when it occurs to him that Daylen is the man who throws himself into danger as a distraction so somebody else can take the clean shot.

And puppets, as Solas is suddenly all too aware, are very distracting indeed.


End file.
